RP:Murder and Mayhem

Part of the Once Upon a Midnight Dreary Arc

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Summary: Yeeshaw.

Pirate’s Cove

Meri :: Word has been sent out to all the participants of this job in a similar fashion as the previous times, that is to say that Meri has been vague on the details. There is no 'why' to the note that everyone receives, just the where and when of it all. Following the same trend as the past meetings, the when is well past the setting of the sun so that the group can leverage the darkness to their advantage. The where of this whole affair is a new location, however. It seems that Meri wants to meet at the entrance of a particular cave along the southern coast of Rynvale, a short distance outside of the bustle of the city. Some have already been here, but for those that have not been? Maps were provided. The night was a fine one, there was not a cloud in the sky, but at least neither of the moons that orbit around the planet are casting much light. It's known that in the winter months that the greenish glow of Vaalane is barely visible. And tonight? Arh'Nuk was only just a sliver in the sky, it's red glow apparent but not enough that it would illuminate the details within the darkness. [1 of 2]

Meri :: As people filtered into the Cave, Meri would be waiting. She stood on the bank of a salty stream that flowed through the cave system, dressed in her blacks, and standing next to two row boats. Every person who entered would be met with a nod, a crooked smile, and some variant of hi, hey, hello, etc. While Meri would wait for everyone to arrive, she would not give them much time to mingle and make with the social pleasantries. Once she was sure all faces were present, she would begin, "So I don't think I need to remind everyone of what we're doing, but if it is not clear for some reason? It's go time tonight. Don't worry about them spotting us. There is a plan," Meri gives Quintessa and Eleanor a pointed look so that they can put any finishing touches on this plan: the shadows, the fog. Meri goes on, letting the two do whatever they need to do. "We're going to split up into teams, approach the ship, board from both ends....and then we will take care of our business." Meri points at one boat with one gloved hand, but it falls once she has listed off the three names on the first team. "We're going to have Tessa, Leo, and El board via the stern and secure the top deck as well as the Captain's Quarters. That means that Rilla, Lanara, Nel and myself will board via the bow. Our goal will be to move to the lower deck to deal with any slavers’ we might find there, while also looking to free any people they have slaved." A beat. "If there are questions, concerns, or other colorful commentary? Please feel free to make them, but I ask that you do so while getting your tushes into those boats. We are in a race against the sun." Meri herself would lead by example, being one of the first to climb into the row boat reserved for those on “her” team. [2 of 2]

Quintessa isn’t excited about returning to Rynvale, her crippling thalassophobia creeping upon her mind once again. However, this time the young necromancer has come prepared to combat this fear with a potion designed to ameliorate the unpleasant thoughts. Through hours of researching fear magic in the Necromancer’s Guild, Quintessa has developed a concoction to bolster her courage and make the unnerving images of drowning not feel so overbearing. Still in the experimental stages, the changeling is relieved to discover that the potion has an effect, the dark fae’s mismatched eyes gazing over the waves with a calm she’s never experienced before. “It’s working.” She whispers to herself in contentment, crossing the sands of the beaches on the way to the designated cave. Tonight Quintessa dresses in her normal combat gear, her skin tight velour catsuit, her invisibility cloak, and her magic shadow-stepping boots- the things she thought she would need during a clandestine operation. She of course brings her assortment of toxins and weapons, the most notable being the katana strapped to her left hip, the Jubaku no Kijo, which her slender digits idly play with as she approaches Meri within the cave. When her aunt speaks, her mismatched gaze fickers up to fall upon the woman, giving her a nod before approaching the rowboats to double check the runes. Quintessa was confident in her work, but even if something went wrong she was certain she could supplement any of the enchantments with her shadow magic. “I have nothing to add other than I want the captain alive- They might have information on this cursed saddle and I’m -quite- interested in gathering it.” Quintessa boards the other rowboat, tracing her fingers along the runic carvings as she awaits the others to join her. Hopefully her potion would last for the entire mission…

Lanara had arrived at the designated location at the appropriate time, as the note she had received from Meri had been precise, and the witch didn’t want to arrive late to the party. In truth, Lanara knew little, if anything, about what would be taking place on this evening. All she knew is that she craved a little adventure and her best friend had been happy to invite her along on a mysterious mission. Clad in hip hugging black pants, a dark gray hoodie, and a pair of black ankle boots; her attire points more to that of comfort than that of mischief. Lana seems to be alone, as none of her usual animal companions are in sight, and she appears to be unarmed, at least to the untrained eye. Taking a final drag on her cigarette, she tosses the butt to the ground and stomps on it to assure that the flame is out, before she enters the cavern and surveys the area with a suspicious glint in her eye. Meri is offered a faint smile, and at the mention of which boat she’s to get in, the smile vanishes as a name she doesn’t know is offered. Rilla? Having not been in the lands for just under a year, she expected a new face or two, but Lana’s underlying hope is that this Rilla woman can be trusted. The others are given a nod in greeting, if they manage to catch her gaze, but it’s Penelope that she walks beside as they head towards the boats. “Hey! How have you been?”

Penelope received another word from Meri. What it was for, well, considering the vagueness there was a guess. Either way, Nel shows draped in dark cargo pants and a black fitting shirt. Of course her medical bag is equipped, and for good measure, daggers sheathed in her belt. Rynvale had not been her favorite place. The sea smelled of salt which brought back memories of living upon the coast, but Rynvale had been a sketchy place, and Nel was not too fond of sketch. Although a member of the Shadows, there had been the calling for… good. The woman convinced herself that their mission was for the good. Upon arrival, the Ardelian does her meet and greets with just about most people, maybe some were given a distant wave, before listening to Meri’s game plan. It was clear that the group would be broken up into teams, and because of the last meeting, it is safe to say that Penelope feels better that she will be with Rilla, Meri, and Lanara only because… the woman was not too sure about Eleanor and Leoxander. The healer nods, does not have further questions, and moves to follow Meri towards the boat as Lanara walks by her side. A smile is given, “Hey, I’m good—“ she cuts off at the smell of cigarettes, “You’re killing your lungs, you know.” It is sweet, non-threatening, but Penelope was a healer, and she would tell that to just about anyone for their health--except Eleanor when the Ardelian met her at the prior meeting. Penelope might have been nervous about rocking that boat and saying something to the stranger. Either way, the girl hops in and sits.

Rilla knew better than to ask too many questions ahead of meetings like this, they never led to anything but more questions. The timing was good, crystalline gaze was cast to the night sky, taking a moment to enjoy the winter night before actually rounding and entering the cave. Arms crossed over her chest and she nodded to the blonde on her way in. For her own part she came dressed for work in black on black, fitted pants that tucked into black boots, a belt around her waist with a shortsword holstered, and other smaller blades and tools tucked there. Tucked into her left sleeve was her hidden blade, simple and well-used but why fix what’s not broken? Around her body she wore throwing knives on a leather holster of sorts, small, black and tucked into little pouches waiting to be used. With her hood down auburn curls are tamed into a braid and pulled over one shoulder as she waits and listens to her current leader. She wasted no time when instructions were given, eyeing the group hesitantly despite being familiar with all of them separately. She simply boarded the boat alongside Meri, as comfortable in a boat as out of it despite the growing tension in her shoulders. Rolling them to shake it off, she licked her lips and eyed the other women one by one.

Eleanor may as well have coordinated with Meri for the similar black ensemble hugging her figure. As they arrived, the folds of her cloak swayed and shifted, amorphous shadows writhing around her ankles and reaching up toward her hips. She kept her cowl pulled low over her face, a mask pulled up over her nose, but behind it, she smirked with Meri's words before dipping her chin in a low, seemingly-sober nod of acknowledgment. Tessa earned a sideways glance; more hidden smirks abound. Although whether at the changeling's alchemical affectation or other conspiratorial machinations, the spellrogue said nothing and joined the birdly recruit in last-minute checks on the rune-work they'd inscribed on the boats she had provided for this operation. El ensured her mini-crew were safe inside the vessel before she, too, climbed aboard, a brief tug of her gloves the only sign of unease to disturb her otherwise mischievous demeanor. At some point, her eyes lifted to Lanara, flaxen brows rising into the shadows of her hood, and a third smirk had to be tempered, punctuated with a, "Hmm." The speculative sound barely fluttered against her mask, and she returned her attention toward their watercraft, settling in to take an oar, other grunts and remarks kept to herself.

Leoxander had haunted those grounds in the past, safe to state. Although a certain dilemma had kept him distance for a good while, now, the rogue had already agreed to the mission. Any lamp light one of those ladies might be holding to air their vision would bring a reflective flare to his nocturnal eyes first, before the rest of his form materialized from the cove’s shadows. Last to arrive but not late, trailing a few steps behind Eleanor to make certain no unwanted company joined the party. In complete silence, which was a well-trained feat considering the leather and weapons and hardware on his person and the heavy tread of footwear made for rugged combat. Beside the obvious compound bow and quiver strapped to his back, blades were concealed in boot and rib harness, lockpicks and cutters hooked on one of the leather belts low on his waist. Maybe a few other surprises stored away. He hadn’t bothered to draw his hood over head, which made it easy for the gathered women to identify his silhouette by that mess of unkempt hair falling partly over his gaze and cut unevenly to brush his jaw in places. The fabric covering the lower half of his face was drawn down to reveal his features, remarkably… clean shaven for a man that lived in a five o’ clock shadow or half beard. Lanara’s cheery greeting had carried a mile for the echo of caves and the reception of wolf sharp ears, and as he hadn’t seen the witch in a damn minute, his eyes were narrowed first on her - not necessarily suspicious but disguising the surprise. He had a concoction of his own, and took a drink of liquor from a handy flask with an exhale of breath heated by his lycanthrope blood, visible in the chill of the cove.

Meri :: There would be no need for anyone to linger outside of the rowboats to push them off the banks and fully into the salty waters. This would be a detail that the psion would be able to handle with ease. Both boats slide smoothly off the sand and into the waters where they begin to float out the mouth of the cave, carried by current at this point and not the will of the telekinetically inclined woman. Prolonged use of these abilities are draining to Meri, which is why once is quick to pick up a pair of oars within the rowboat and put them to good use. As the two boats exit the mouth of the cave, a thick cloud of fog rolls out ahead of them across the ocean. Quintessa was to thank for that. The development of such a marine layer at night was not a strange occurrence to Rynvale, often burning off quickly as the sun climbs high into the sky, so this formation of fog should not raise alarm bells to anyone witnessing it. And on the off chance that the ship they were about to board had means to illuminate the fog? The shadows summoned by Eleanor would ensure that they would be nothing but a patch of darkness blending in with the night time waters of the sea. The two boats would travel closer together for a considerable distance, giving Meri a chance to address any of those questions or concerns...but there were none. Meri hoped this was because the plan was clear.

Meri :: Time would pass, not a full hour, but enough time that those who were manning the oars were probably starting to feel a bit of a burn. Maybe. While the fog provided cover for those attacking, it also made it challenging for the average person to gauge exactly when they would be upon the Golden Rose. A lot of trust was being placed on the psion right now, that she would be able to navigate them to the right location in these conditions. Meri knew her heading well and before long the two teams would see a looming shadow in the distance and it would be at this point the two rowboats split, with one being taken to the stern and the other the bow. The blonde knew well enough that she was in the company of people who were more than capable and had abilities that she may not even be aware of, so how each individual gets onto the deck of the ship? Well that would be up to them. Meri has taken the proper preparations for those that might need to climb up to the deck the old fashioned way, grappling hooks secured to sturdy ropes are readily available within both boats. While they have made their approach in the dead of night, the ship is not entirely without motion. Plenty of the crew will be found resting within the various quarters provided by the ship, but there are lights and voices of an unknown number of people on the deck of the ship.

Meri’s Team

Meri :: The row boat that the team of four is in draws to as much of a halt as one can except, given that it is ultimately at the mercy of ocean currents and bobbing motion of the black water. The plan has already been explained, Meri trusted that those on her team were more than aware that this was the part where things would get ugly. They were all about to climb up the bow of the ship. This was not time for pause in Meri's eyes, the oars that she was manning are set very quietly at the bottom of the rowboat and three of the roped grappling hooks are taken into her possession. For those who are aware of the woman's telekinetic abilities, what happens next should not be that much of a shock. Meri herself has no intention of climbing up any of those ropes, nor will she be throwing them on the deck. Instead the psion levitates until she is lingering just beneath the railing of the ship, allowing her to stealthy hook each of the grappling hooks around their own separate posts. Maybe Rilla, Nel, and Lanara would not need this? That would be just fine, whatever is clever in this regard, Meri was just trying to make life a little easier for those who might need to do this the old fashioned way. Note that if any on her team take the rope climbing approach? And struggle? They might just find that they are given a bit of a telekinetic lift from the psion. Given that some may need a moment to muscle their way up that rope, Meri is not quick to just climb on deck and alert the slave trader's of their presence. She would wait, floating just below the main deck of the ship, waiting for her team to catch up. In this wait, she is also taking the time to attempt to scope out the numbers and their position. At least those that would be of concern to her own team, it was a bit more challenging to gauge these details for the stern of the ship anyway. When her team is close enough to her, Meri whispers the single word of, "Five." Five potential enemies, she means, at least within their immediate vicinity and preventing their goal of moving to and securing the lower levels of the ship. As if on cue, one of those five individuals leans over the rail of the ship at almost the exact point where the four women are trying to board. He doesn't notice any of them straight away, he's a bit too distracted with releasing the contents of his innards...hopefully into the sea, and not onto one of the women. This prompts his four nearby friends to jeer and tease the sloppy drunk about his inability to hold his liquor. Which almost eliminates the chance of being unseen for at least a few moments, all eyes will be on them the moment they make a move. So everyone better move fast....

Rilla turned to look at the empty space behind her where something unseen pushed them off, looking into the other boat, she’d nod to them, though her gaze lingered on the wolf she’d gotten into this a moment longer than the others. Her jaw tightened and she looked back to the boat she was sat in, content to let him fend for himself as he always had. Thin fingers drummed lightly on her knees in time with each of their breathing in turn. Though she was polite and wouldn’t leave anyone hanging, Rilla was quiet around groups. At least there was a clear end in sight as they approached the larger vessel. The shadow they hid in felt like an option, she’d been practicing with Khitti and was almost certain she wasn’t going to reappear in the middle of a field somewhere. She remained seated as they came alongside the ship, judging the depth of the shadows they were hidden in as she bit her cheek before she looked back to her ‘team’. “I’ll see you topside.” Rilla said with a lop-sided grin, as she stood and remembered to breathe - her shoulders sinking as she disappeared into the shadows they were hidden in (a thing she’d discovered was a challenge while stationary) only to emerge topside nearly standing all the way up and out of the shadow cast by clutter above deck. She dropped back low, one knee on the ground and her hood drawn up over her head to await the others. She didn’t even breathe, still as she listened for the motion beneath the deck though she couldn’t see anyone without standing outright - aside from the top of the psion’s head who had already made her appearance. She cringed as the sailors appeared and she watched their backs from the corner she was backed into, eyeing the situation a moment longer before she cursed under her breath and pushed over the barrel she was hidden by, sending it crashing and rolling as Rilla darted from her hiding place and away from her distraction in search of a way down.

Lanara is crammed into the boat between Penelope and Meri, her chocolate hues glued upon the form of Rilla. The witch mistrusts many, so it’s no surprise that she’s instantly suspicious of the stranger, but as they lock eyes she doesn’t glance away or offer introduction. Not yet, they had a mission that had to be carried out, and she knows it’s best to stay focused. The healer comments on the stench of cigarettes, which is only magnified by the oceans breeze, and she cannot help but grin, “It’s alright. I plan on quitting soon enough.” The hell she plans on quitting, it’s been one of her few vices since learning that her life is expected to cease within the next month or so. There’s a moment of guilt as she realizes she just lied to Penny, one that she considers a dear friend, but the guilt is short lived as the boat begins moving in the appropriate direction. Lana glances over at the sister boat and she offers a knowing grin to Eleanor, before her gaze shifts to Leo and she quirks a brow, her lips slightly parting in surprise. The last time she had seen the male hadn’t been pleasant; as he bailed on their plans and she had to single handedly take down a dog fighting ring in Cenril. It had been five years? Maybe more? Quintessa would be noticed as well, of course, and offered a curt nod, before Lana returns her attention to assisting with rowing. “I don’t know what the plan is…” She whispers, gently nudging Meri, and giving the psion a confused albeit amused grin. Lanara knew enough to go with the flow and jump in where she was needed, for she fed off of adrenaline and was loyal to those that were of a similar goal. As the boats near their destination and Meri uses her psionic abilities, the woman feels the seductive swell of electricity surging through her veins, and calculating glances are given from the rope to the ship. If she were able to wield her magic, she surely would have called upon the element of Air to aide in her ascent, but seeing as it’s no longer an option; the witch takes a steadying breath before reaching for the rope. Lanara isn’t shy about climbing the rope, and despite the fact that she’s so petite, she clings to the coarse fabric and scales upwards at a pace much faster than one would predict. Toned thighs hug the rope, and her hands hold tightly onto the upper knot, but much like Meri she remains idle in place, not yet climbing aboard the ship. The sound of the crew on board is heard, their raucous laughter and mocking of the male that is vomiting over the side of the boat, and the brunette shakes her head in mild annoyance. Thankfully, the wind is in the favor and the projectile flows a few inches to the right, narrowly missing her sleek ponytail. Lana bites back a gag as the strong scent of bile is unbearable, overwhelming the woman’s senses, and sadly the one that was in the midst of expelling his stomach contents overhears the clearing of a throat. “What’s that?” The drunkard aims to peer slightly over the edge, drawing the attention of one of his buddies, “Don’t tell me you see a mermaid?!” He doubles over in laughter, as the drunkard likely turns with a look of disdain, claiming again and again that he heard ‘something’ coming from the water. Lana heaves a sigh of relief and mouths ‘sorry’ to Meri, before she looks to see if Rilla and Penelope had gotten safely to their positions.

Penelope runs a stray hand in the ocean as the boats move through the rocking sea. All the while, if people are making small talk, she will answer to. If not, she understood that too, for making too much noise? Well, that may be a mistake whether for others on the water, or critters lurking beneath the dark waters. The hour passes and they come into the clear of the ship. As Meri hooks the grappling hooks to the ship, Nel grabs one of the ropes before giving it a tug to check stability. Once secure, the woman begins to pull herself up the side of the ship. All is easy and smooth before a man begins to sway near the deck to hurl. The girl pauses out of mild, silent panic, and her muscles begin to shake. Penelope knew she could not hold on much longer, so there was only one thing left to do… Move up over the ship entirely. The woman times it, she watches as the man heaves and closes his eyes before she throws a leg over the side of the ship. Luckily, there was a barrel just a couple feet to the right, so she hides behind that. Cue one man looking briefly over the side due to Lanara’s clearing of throat at the smell of vomit. Penelope is cringing behind this barrel because the man who is looking over the rail slightly is right beyond that barrel. The girl was safe, but she was not safe for long because that man was tall and if he looked one more foot to the right, he would see the Ardelian clearly. Her breath is held in anticipation.

Meri :: Lanara and her gagging, as understandable as it was, had almost pulled the attention of all five men on to the women who are still not yet on the ship. But. The distraction provided by Rilla would prove to be a saving grace for the team, the barrel that was sent rolling definitely pulled the attention of the four other men. While items being tossed around at sea were not entirely uncommon, the conditions were not exactly ripe for such an event. So four out of those five men were currently beyond perplexed and their drunken stupor only complicated matters. Try as they might, they could not find a source for what might have caused the barrel to take to motion for Rilla had already bolted from sight in search of the lower decks. She would not have a hard time finding the stairs to the lower deck, but would she move ahead of the rest of the group on her own? We’ll circle back to that in a minute. In the meantime, Meri is going to use this distraction to her advantage, reaching out to grab the puker and pulling him overboard. He is too shocked to scream, though the sound of his body can clearly be heard splashing into the water. It’s just another incident to add to the confusion currently being experienced by the four remaining sailors. Alas, the blonde is not going to wait for Lanara and Penelope to catch up at this point. The show has officially started and Meri the two witches are going to have to keep up. Nel was about to realize what she officially signed up for...it might be more than she bargained for. What happens next happens in a flash. The levitating psion finally descends onto the deck of the ship, approaching the four sailors from behind, with her bastard sword drawn. Were it not for the confusion that currently plagued them, she might have gotten more of a fight out of them. They meet a swift end, but not a silent one. If the deck of the ship has not been alerted prior? They will hear the screams of those four fallen comrades and be aware that something is more than awry now. With the five individuals Meri initially called out dispatched, the blonde wastes little time in leading the rest of the team to the lower deck. The swaying of the ship does little to slow Meri, who seems quite at ease at sea and more than familiar with the layout of ships. Down a set of stairs Meri goes, hoping that her team will be hot on her heels so that they could keep the advantage of a surprise attack for as long as possible. It is here that we circle back to Rilla. If she gave pause, she will find that the rest of the ladies will soon be joining her, traveling down the stairs and into the lower deck of the ship...where they will be met by a number of more sailors. Look, these are slave traders. They are not going to be friendly. The only advantage is that given the hour? Many of them have been sleeping and may not be as ready for a fight as they might be in different circumstances. But it would not be long before pirates come pouring out of their quarters. If Rilla does not wait though? The moment that she opens the door to the lower decks, alerts will be sounded in the form of shouting and she will be met with drawn swords. By who? Well there is a certain room toward the back of the ship that has a guard posted on it at all hours. What could be in that room? Certainly not a Captain. Those quarters are located elsewhere. This event will transpire one way or another, the only difference will be how soon the backup will be able to get to Rilla, if she goes in ahead of the rest.

Rilla made a diversion, that didn’t mean people had to take it - she wasn’t sticking around to find out. She found the stairs leading below deck easily, keeping low when there wasn’t a shadow to shield her from view. There was a moment when she thought about waiting, but the others were not imminently behind as they made their way past the soldiers and down the steps Rilla went. Her footfalls silent, the young vampire was on high alert from the moment she separated, listening for the heartbeats that the sloshing of water against the hull threatened to drown out. All the same, she could hear them on the other side of the door at the bottom of the steps, perhaps coming to investigate the commotion above deck. Hedging her bets that the door swinging open while she was alone would be worse than her opening it on her own accord, Rilla drew her shortsword and throwing knife in the other, though it hung loose from her fingers as she pushed open the door. The immediate shouting was jarring but expected, above deck the others were still behind. Rilla was well outnumbered, but in an instant she had her knife in hand and then with a practiced throw sent it flying through the air towards the throat of the first guard to start in her direction. Cursing under her breath, Rilla lunged forward silently, shortsword first and at the last moment dodged around the solider -faster than before - only to turn and thrust upward, aiming for under his ribcage if only to buy time for the calvary.

Lanara freezes as she sees Penelope’s grip loosening on the rope, though once the healer manages to climb onboard, she somewhat relaxes. Meri had mentioned that there are five men in close proximity, and judging by their voices and footfalls, she senses that two of them are nearing this particular side of the ship. The grip on the rope is beginning to cut into her palms, but she knows better than to swing aboard just yet, so she waits for Meri to pull the poor sod off of the boat and into the depths of the water. He lands with a loud splash, and once his arms quit flailing, Lana climbs onto the boat and as soon as her heels hit the deck she quickly follows after Rilla. She doesn’t know precisely what this mission entails, only that they are intent on overtaking the ship, and so she pulls a hidden dagger from her boot and turns the corner, only to discover that hell had broken loose on the lower deck. She nearly collides with Meri as a room full of men brandishing fancy weapons tries to intimidate the women, and the witch knows it’s wise to scatter rather than remain in close proximity with her teammates. Unable to use her magic and relying solely on comrades doesn’t sit well with the witch, so she sends a silent plea to the Goddess, and resorts to using the few hand to hand moves that she had learned over the years. Many years of being a dancer helped the elf perfect the arts of side stepping, pirouetting, and rapid reflexes, so most of the attacks issued at Lanara are easily dodged. Clearly since the opponents only see her measly dagger, she isn’t deemed much of a target. A few men are just waking from a deep slumber and do nothing more than curse and point at the women, some are drunk and throw whatever object is nearest or rub their eyes in confusion, the better trained pirates are attempting to corner Rilla and Meri with swords, and one male is standing atop a cot, buck naked, and wielding a broom. Lana knows that Penelope was nearing the steps moments prior, and is likely dealing with the man that managed to slip by, and so that leaves her with the nude lunatic. “Why do I always attract the crazy?!” With a huff, Lanara weaves through the scattered clothing and empty bottles on the floor, and tries her damnedest to keep her balance as the sway of the ocean has her sliding a little more westward than she’d like to be. “You have –no- business using a broom in that manner! So, we can play this two ways, Sailor… Either you hand it over and I let you escape unscathed… Or this dagger goes through your throat and the handle of that broom goes between your ass cheeks. Take your pick.” A sinister smile graces those lush lips, as the woman takes a slow step forward, as though she was really allowing the strange fellow to pick his poison. Whether the broom is handed over or not, it all happens in the blink of an eye, as Lanara leaps onto the cot with the male, colliding against his form. The man fumbles, taking the witch with him, and they both land with a loud ‘thud’ on the deck floor. Crimson stains the man’s flesh, the dagger is implanted firmly in his jugular, and the handle of the broom lies beneath the male. Had the witch really fulfilled her promise? Would anyone dare to take a peek? As the man takes his final breath, Lana pushes herself to her feet, and dries her palms on her pants. Dark hues assess the situation, and she prepares to step in and aide whoever requires her assistance.

Penelope definitely did not sign up for this. This was another world. One different from the heroic world of the warriors, but perhaps this was warrior-esc in a way. The freckled healer was always stuck in-between different types of people, for with her skills came diversity in play. So she was running with the rogues? So what? Maybe it was enlightening. Not a life she would choose, but one to dabble in for the folks who needed her. The Ardelian hears the knock of other barrels. Rilla. Eyes see Rilla before she is gone. The drunken man is finally falling overboard which saved Nel from giving a good shove on him, and in a blink Meri is with her sword and taking out the men. Yeah, wow (amiright?). Anyway, the woman gets up and bolts to remain behind Meri’s tail. The commotion begins to awaken several slave traders who are coming out of their quarters a couple at a time. Without hesitation, the girl pulls out her daggers strike one to the left of her to knock a sailor back into their room. The blade sticks into the gut of one, but she pulls it out and keeps going. Was this against her morals? “Better get the healer on deck,” she says almost apologetically before grabbing the blade and moving on to one who comes from behind her and wraps his arms around her neck from the back. Nothing like a good kick to the you-know-where to really make a man groan—in pain. It was satisfactory, to say the least, for she always wanted to kick a dude like that because she read it in so many storybooks that were dramatic. Slack around her throat loosens and the man is shoved to the side as he tucks back in his bunk in pain. The woman does not waste another moment and closes the door, her hand hot from frustration. Literally. There was an orange glow from her hand, her eyes were turning hazel, she was making sure that doorknob was hot on the other side so the man groaning would not open the door. Once the knob was hot enough, she lunges forward to attack anyone else that nears her or anyone around her. The girl turns and there is a booty naked man on Lanara, and as she moves, a female steps into her path who tries to sock the Ardelian with a punch. With Nel’s fist still hot, she throws one in return with her poor form. “Ow!!” Penelope shouts as she knocks against the face of the female pirate—her thumb was tucked in. The healer shakes her hand before she is met with a fist of the pirate. The knuckles knock the witch in the lip. Penelope’s teeth graze against her lip and a small bit of blood trickles. “No, you did not!” Both girls start cat-fighting before Nel just kicks the woman to knock her into a shelf. Objects land on the female pirate’s head to knock her out cold. What is life today? Fighting was not Nel's strong-suit.

Meri’s sword would soon be lent to Rilla’s aid, but it is not always cats that curiosity gets the better of. At some point during the fray, Meri is really curious about what could possibly be behind that door. She has a few guesses, but in truth…? She would much rather find chests of gold. As soon as she gets the chance, she will be finding out. But first…! There are a couple of pirates who think that it is a good idea to attempt to corner Meri and Rilla. Not a wise move, both women were more than skilled with their respective weapons, and both had a few tricks up their sleeves. Example. Sure, Meri might be wielding a sword of her own? But it never hurts to have to, now does it? There is a beyond shocked look on the pirates face as the weapon he brandishes is pulled from his grasp by an unknown force, flying straight into Meri’s grip...only so the blonde could turn around and use it on him. He’s stuck with his own weapon, straight through the gut..a weapon that is yanked free, so that Meri can continue to dual wield the swords. One man, witnessing what has happened, has decided to abandon the fight. Maybe it would be a better idea to risk the nighttime waters of Rynvale, maybe mermaids and sharks would be more dormant, during this hour, eh? What is clear to this man, is that staying could mean certain death and the winter waters of Rynvale could at least mean a chance at life. He will take that chance. With a moment to breath amidst all the chaos, Meri finally takes a moment to reach for the door that was previously guarded and opens it. Behind it, she finds about ten people, mostly adults of both genders but there is one that is probably a boy about the age of ten. All are in shackles. And shackles? Often does not mean much to a good rogue. Besides, what is a lock if not an object that has a series of pins that can need to be moved in such a way to cause the lock to open? The locks hit the wooden deck with a clammer and the now freed slaves spring to life in a mix of excitement and rage. These ten individuals flood out of the room that Meri just released them from, adding another element of chaos to the battle. While they did not have weapons prior to exiting the room, most of them are quick to relieve fallen slave traders of any swords or daggers they clearly no longer have use for. The tides of battle were starting to turn, and the numbers were no longer in favor of the slave traders. There would soon be none of them left, maybe not by the hand of the ladies that initially launched this assault. Surely no one could blame their captives for seeking a bit of revenge….These slaves would not be hard pressed to tell their saviors from the slavers either. They knew the targets of their rage.

Rilla ’s world tended to involved fewer big scenes than the ones that she’d gotten into since her return. The sound of the fight and the gentle battering of water blended together as Rilla found a rhythm with which to dispatch the soldiers that ran for her, shortsword in hand to meet the swinging blades of half-asleep soldiers and pirates, her hidden blade extended and already stained with blood that glinted in the light. Although her attention was briefly diverted to the man trying to force her and Meri into a corner, she left the psion to her work as bright eyes flashed wildly across the fray.Penelope’s voice caught her attention, her hood falling as she whirled around to make sure the healer wasn’t unfairly matched. The soldier she was hand to hand with saw an opportunity and dove at her, already disarmed and injured. Rilla cursed and her shortsword clattered to the ground as she turned, lips pulled back from her teeth in a low snarl, sinking a blade deeply into his gut as he collapsed onto it, she twisted the knife on the way out and let him fall to the ground on his own. He called her a dirty word and Rilla gave a swift kick to the ribs that silenced the now bleeding pirate. Before long slaves were streaming out and Rilla stepped back, letting them have their revenge though she dodged around their captors, knocking them to the ground for the prisoners to do with what they will. Rilla was at Penelope’s side in an instant, concern creasing her brow although she shifted her weight in anticipation of the next attack. “Need my help?” She asked the healer who she’d maybe saved the world with once(?) Things were strange here to say the least.

Lanara stands in the midst of all the chaos, wildly clapping her blood soaked hands, as she applauds Penelope for kicking a man in the groin and punching a woman with a fiery fist. Never before had the witch been so proud of the shy healer, who is quickly joining the ranks of a badass. “I’m so happy for you, Penny!” The excitement is short lived as Meri opens the door and unleashes a herd of angry slaves, all of which begin taking out their hatred on those that had dared to hold them captive. There is so much fighting going on that it’s hard to know who is on which side, but it’s obvious that those that originally held the power on the ship, are being rapidly overthrown. Leoxander’s shout from earlier couldn’t be more fitting, as this entire situation is beyond crazy, and if there’s one thing that Lanara knows about… It’s sheer madness. Smirking, she tails behind Meri, only for a teenager still tangled in shackles to invade her path and wrap his arms around Lana’s neck. “Hey! Get off!” The metal slips around the woman’s throat, and not knowing what else to do, she falls into the male, pressing all of her weight into his weak arms. It manages to loosen the coil that he managed to form around her neck, and once she shoves him to the deck floor, she fixes him with a glare, “You should consider yourself lucky that you’ve been freed, so many are forced to live in cages.” There’s a feral vibe coming off of the witch, a combination of fear mixed with survival, as though she speaks from experience. The boy kneels in place, too weak to join in with the other slaves in taking over the ship, but too stubborn to cave to whom he believes are his new captors. Lanara has a hint of pity in her gaze, as she pulls the hoodie over her head and throws it at the boy, so that he can cover his upper half, and hide the oozing lash marks on his back. She wears a tank top that shows off more cleavage than she hoped to show, but she feels that she did some semblance of good, as the teenager hugs her discarded shirt to his chest and dissolves into sobs. The witch shakes her head and continues to follow after Meri, though she remains cautious of her surroundings, and continues to peek at Rilla and Penelope to see if her comrades need any assistance.

Penelope backed up against the other wall. Her head turns to watch the door that is opening. Her chest rises and falls rapidly from the adrenaline, and the doorknob is shaking before a scream is heard from the scolding heat of metal. Now hazel eyes move to the door that Meri and Rilla unlock. The people held capture. Even a child. Each prisoner is bound, but Nel cannot catch her breath to keep moving to help. Not until the captives are unleashed and are going to finish the rest. “Not now, Lanara! Save it for a night on the town! It’s not over yet!” The healer would help the rest of the lot, but another stepped in her view with a shard of something broken. Another man. One that smelled of very bad body odor and looked menacing. “Now, you’ve got to be joking—“ and then Rilla is next to her. Thank Sven because Penelope was tired. “Yes, please for the love of Sven! I can’t use fire on this ship, it’ll burn.” She could only touch with hot-handed prints. Things were… strange, and with Rilla, there was an odd comfort and familiarity. A trust. They had each other’s backs although foreign. With an automatic, the man tries to lunge towards the two, Nel would do her best to push the man off with another scolding touch with her hands, but in a flash the broken shard cuts across her forearm at her touch against him. The healer is sliced. Out of all people. It was bound to happen, her luck only pushed so far with each mission she was supposed to be on. As long as Rilla could commit the final blow, the Ardelian would be content even though the slice shocked her. There was only a small frame of opportunity. Penny had taken plenty of slice and dices from her history with Linken, and survived from almost knocking on death’s door, and this was only another moment to fight to her best luck-filled ability. It was working, and Penelope Halifax was –luckily- thriving? Might have been the first time she was doing decent and not a complete amateur.

Quintessa’s Team

Quintessa || As the rowboats slide into the sea, Quintessa raises her hands to allow her magical aura to activate the runes on each vessel, causing rolling fog to emit from them as a subtle vail that would mask their approach. Once active the runes would remain charged for the duration of the mission, providing cover for both groups as they assault the Golden Rose. Quintessa had never rowed a boat before, but she wouldn’t be against it if called upon- she had the physique to handle the labor, she just lacked the knowhow. Her keen, hag-born eyes, however, could easily cut through the fog and shadow swirling around them, however, and she might have been most useful in spotting the ship ahead and swinging the grappling hook onboard to prepare their assent. Quintessa didn’t -need- to climb the rope to get onboard, she could easily shadow-step, but she felt it prudent to save her reservoir of mana in case things got dicier than expected. The prongs hook onto the railing of the stern, securing the rope tightly in place before the changeling gives it a quick tug and ties it off on the rowboat. Not wasting any time, Quintessa grips the rope and begins to climb up slowly, the sharp heels of her boots finding grip on the wooden ship as she scales up the side and over the railing. Blue and hazel eyes peer through the darkness of the rear deck, thankful that whoever was protrolling was either lazy, incompetent, or not at the back of their route, giving this trio the silent opening they needed to get the drop on the captain and her personal entourage of officers. Kneeling down with her cloak wrapped tightly around her, Quintessa attempts to blend in until Eleanor and Leoxander have joined her on the upper deck, allowing discretion to be the better part of her valor so she did not blow their cover prematurely.

Eleanor drew both muscled arms under the layers of her cloak and bowed her head in silent vigil while Meri guided from the cove with an ability so subtle the spellrogue was quick to feel respect bloom within her for the psion's craft, and it wouldn't be the first time. She hoped it wouldn't be the last, either. Her celadon eyes shifted away from their leader in the darkness to take in the profile of the wolf in her own boat. "Time tae hae a wee bit ay fin." The spellrogue's words were uttered so low they may as well be nothing more than a spell intended for Leo's ears alone, even with his preternatural senses already lending favor and fortune to his rolls. Umbral shrouds kept close to the boats, practically a facsimile of her shadow-laced disguise. Underneath El's cloak, spells inked in twisted, knotted designs briefly came alive around her hips, albeit whatever azure flashes of light the tattoos might usually give off were wholly suppressed by the spellrogue's current wardrobe. By the time they came astern the ship, she was all but itching to get on board. In fact, and soon as she could, the spellrogue was kicking off one of the benches of the rowboat, propelled upward until she noiselessly grabbed ahold of the rigging and the railing and pressed herself flat against the latter. As Tessa established a footing on the deck, she waited on a moment before launching herself over the bar to land beside the changeling. Making herself as small as possible and drawing only a faint degree of shadows further around her, she slanted a gaze expectantly at Tessa. While she was undoubtedly no pirate like their Leoxander, she knew her way around a ship; all the same, Eleanor intended to wait for her new hag-born friend's instructions, more than a little excited to see what else she was capable of.

Leoxander shot Eleanor a sidelong look with a sinister glint in his eyes before he gripped the wood of the hull to steady and halt the dinghy to avoid a knock of wood that might echo the underbelly, giving Quintessa some balance to lob her means of climbing aboard. Adjusting the bow on his back, it was rogue born dexterity and a skill for free soloing and parkour with his understanding of the ship’s structure that gave the pirate the ability to scale the back of the vessel and pull himself over and onto the deck. By that point, mask and hood were in place, leaving only his eyes to avoid catching torch or lamp light, as it could give away his position like an animal in the dark. Considering his team consisted of two who wielded melee weapons and an advantage of converse magicks, his bow was shrugged into grip with a black fletched arrow nocked loose, ready. Keen ears picked up on the laughter from the front, more occupied than the back of the boat would be, and to their ‘team’s’ luck, better illuminated, as well. But the former captain knew where at least one lookout would be keeping watch over their criminal cargo, and maintained his crouched advantage a few steps further, until he abruptly lifted upright and fluidly brought back the cam string of his weapon, aimed up toward the sky. He watched the heat signatures of the sailor shifting in the small space of the crow’s nest until the man eased into a bored lean, and once certain that body would not come toppling over the edge and did not have monocular in hand, that missile cut through the air silent and deadly, into the back of his skull with an arrow head sticking out through forehead between eyes, brain activity quickly severed to deny even a death rattle or groan. Hey, the clock had started and he was not one to waste time. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy the gig. He sent a satisfied look toward Tessa’s and Eleanor’s direction and held up an index finger, then tapped his own chest, wordlessly. Leo: 1 - Ladies: 0.

Quintessa gives Eleanor a nod, about to give a quiet idea of what she had planned when her attention shifted to the man in the crow’s nest. Leo’s arrow penetrates the man’s skull and the changeling grins with grim delight, the familiar sense of bloodlust that had been contained for weeks causing a feeling of elation to flow through her as the adrenaline started pumping. This was real. This was happening now. Quintessa stands, her grin becoming a smirk thrown sidelong at the lycan her competitive spirit set on fire that he had taken first blood- now the spooky girl felt motivated to keep up with him. “Tawelwch~” The young spellcaster whispers, her voice faint like wind on the sea as her magic muffles her movements, bluish energy flowing from her fingertip to entwine with her already enchanted boots. “Let’s get to the Captain’s Quarters before someone notices,” She speaks, barely audible, hoping between El’s moxy and Leo’s superior sense of hearing that they understand her as she draws a long, adamantite dagger from her belt. Quintessa takes only three steps before one of the slavers drunkenly makes his way up to the higher deck, humming a sea shanty and not paying any mind to his surroundings. He’d walked this path many times before to relieve himself off the back of the Golden Rose and there had never been any danger then. Familiarity breeds complacency, and with the warm buzz of alcohol currently obscuring his mind, the slaver had just untied the drawstring of his trousers before his eyes focused on a shadowed form looming closer. This would come a second too late. With her aim already trained on him, she lets her dagger fly, quickly spinning in the air before lodging between his eyes, giving the sailor a second or two longer to reach up and touch the grip before his body fell limp to the surface of the ship, blood (and the contents of his bladder) pooling underneath of him as the hexblade stepped over him. With a strong tug Quintessa frees her blade from his face, holding a single finger up to Leo to indicate that she had caught up to his kill-count before turning back to the front of the ship to press further.

Eleanor felt more than saw Leoxander take his place, and through rune-touched one way or another, she sensed a specific shift in the air. She quickly lifted her pale celadon eyes heavenward, and they shone azure for a heartbeat as she picked out the shish-kebab'd scout in the crow's nest. Spying the wolf's taunting next, the spellrogue found herself smirking, tempering a snicker as she pulled herself from her crouched position. Rolling her shoulders back, she ignored the distant sounds of what could pass for a barfight — she even dismissed the inexplicable sense of deja vu — and focused on their immediate concerns. With each second, she grew more acclimated to the gentle rocking of the ship, and as plans brewed, so too did a broad and wicked smile—the sort of evil grin that crinkled around her sharp eyes, coming straight from her black-marked soul. Turning to their captain of the night, Tessa once again earned the spellrogue's regard, this time with a nod. Joining her, she took haste to execute any actions as needed, and much like the adrenaline that coursed through the changeling with her first expeditious kill of the night, unsettled energy was already flowing through the spellrogue's veins. Last night's hunt had been more than successful, and with a notch on the belt of both her partners-in-crime, El was spooling up to take her place as the actual leader of this trio of rogues, at least as far as their running kill-count was concerned. Her soft-soled boots carried her silently along, stepping carefully around the haplessly dead slaver before descending the steps to the quarterdeck. With the doors to the captain's quarters coming into view around the corner, El once more pressed herself into the darkness, only this time, she was listening. And more than listening, she had at some point removed the glove from her right hand, and her palm was flush to the door. Eleanor's green-blue gaze shuttered through the spell she pushed through, a surge of electricity streaking down the nerves of her arm before a pulse of the energy phased past the door and into the cabin beyond. It didn't matter that there were muffled cries of alarm, each one — and she counted, tois, tree, four — dropped with a muted thud. Knowing it only affected those sensitive to the force of magic rendered them, El didn't skip another beat, sending a second, more directed blast of arcane energy from her rune-streaked first at the door's lock. The spellrogue usually reserved a certain finesse when helping herself into locked spaces, but there was an entrance that had to be made if Tessa's goals were to have the impact she so desired. Knowing Leo would help her set the rest of the scene, she stepped aside but with a dagger now brandished in either hand, produced from gods-only-knew-where as she prepared to finish off the captain's cronies, leaving the centerpiece dangling for the changeling.

Leoxander heard the fight bell ring in his mind as the commotion began but he didn’t abandon his range weapon immediately. The trouble stirring up at the bow of the ship riled a body or two in the space between from their alcohol fueled naps, and while confused or frantic looks pulled attention away from their advance, at least one of those men would not quite manage a stagger to his feet before an arrow found his heart, plunging in deep alongside spine. Only then did the rogue shift the compound bow across his chest and back, pacing forward in line with his fellow executioners. Catching a glimpse of Quintessa’s tally almost made him trip over a sprawled body so black-out drunk that even the noise hadn’t pulled him awake. Unfortunately, Leo’s boot stomping into stomach and groin did the trick, and as he bolted upright to scream, it was abruptly silenced with a twist of skull and a crunch of neck bones. “Alive..!” He barks after Tessa as a reminder, since he’d seen that bloodlust in her eyes. Thump goes another body as he releases it, twin steel blades drawn into an ambidextrous grip. “Takes crazy to know crazy.” He roughly throws that statement at Lanara’s rhetorical question, heard above. The first words spoken to her in years while she crawls off her victim, Leo making his way passed the hatched stairwell that glows from the lighting below deck and spills over with the sounds of broken glass, steel on steel, panic and pain. His momentum shifted to a jog in order to catch up with the spellrogue and shadowblade paving a bloody path, one last scout of that upper level taken just to be certain the bodies on the deck were dead, dying, and not just drunk. Just about to step out of the shadows and into the light, that wave of arcane went through him like the force of a not-so-distant bomb, the buried rune on his chest burning blue beneath his armor and jacket, and in rare form the pirate stumbled on a ship before he shook off the shock and hurried to Eleanor and Tessa’s location. Taking post on the opposite side of the large door to assist with Quintessa’s defense, he muttered through his mask toward the blonde at his side. “Cute.” This said with a faux glare before his attention turned ahead to anyone left to fight for their Captain.

Quintessa || The sounds of combat were like music to Quintessa’s ears, each foe’s muffled death cries like a siren's song that hypnotized her. This thirst for blood was something the changeling denied for herself after constant scolding from teachers, but out here with her current company it appeared a welcome asset. With the lock blown and an attachment of Captain Morgan’s guard thoroughly electrified, nothing was stopping the trio from descending on her and her remaining men. The captain in question was not pleased at the way her night had been interrupted, throwing curses as they came into view, cutlass in hand as she prepared to repel the assault. Little did she know who exactly had come to put and end to her slave trade operations. Quintessa recognizes Morgan as the captain by the way she speaks, demanding to know who these people were who had come to take her ship. They certainly weren’t with the Rynvale Port Authority, and none she recognized as one of her likely rivals. No, the identity of these individuals lie shrouded in secret. Quintessa has no answer for the woman except violence, flinging her dagger through the air at her before charging in with her katana, her body shifting into an incorporeal form just a second as her shadow magic aided her in passing through her defenders, but Captain Morgan was quick. She parried the dagger with just enough time to drop her saber back down defensively, the force of Quintessa’s powerful weapon driving her backwards and into the wall, pinned with her own weapon against her chest. A second round of curses escapes her lips as she attempts to regain the breath knocked out from her, promising her revenge before Quintessa takes a page out of Eleanor’s book and sends a surge of electricity through her sword, the conductive properties of the metal cutlass sending the lightning right into her torso to elicit a scream before her grip loosened. The changeling could keep the Captain busy while her companions dealt with the officers- this woman was who Quintessa was here for anyway.

Eleanor winked to Leo when he joined her, the spellrogue's husky cackles fanning against the mask in reply. Somewhere amidst the fray, she was sure she heard someone swear off burning the ship, and if El were the praying sort, she might be doing that now. It wasn't every day the woman found herself on a sinking ship, yet somehow she'd found herself on plenty and was mighty content with not making this the third in as many years. With the captain's closest half-down and the rest in their way, she flexed both hands around her daggers before stepping into a familiar dance. Four was a rookie number, after all, and she planned to add to that still. Spinning around, graceful steps carried her into a pirouette as much as a dodge around the lumbering slavers who advanced in a bid to confuse and disorient them. Meanwhile, the shadow-shrouded sinner thrust her tainted blades upward crossways, simultaneously striking across the first slaver's throat. His blood wasn't yet done squirting unceremoniously across her cloak when he slumped away, and she was already on the second, driving her other toxin-coated dagger through the woman's abdomen, just below her navel. The slaver thought herself bold to struggle closer, hands curling around El's throat, but the spellrogue grunted and twisted the blade deeper, hissing something in D'Vainese. A scream started in the slaver's throat, but it was cut short when she crumbled like her soul-peddling companions. There weren't many more left, and twitching bodies joined the masses as El dispensed of her share quickly, the metal of her blades developing a viscous coating of blood and antigenic poison.

Leoxander heard the flood of voices in confusion and relief, angry jeers and grateful sobs. The clang of metal and death shrieks were less, enough to tell him that the slaves had been successfully freed. If there were any of the crew left alive in surrender on that ship, it wouldn’t be the last few officers who swore their oath to… the captain? Alright, so forgive the rogue, particularly since he’d come in the company of six fatale femme, but he hadn’t expected to witness a woman leading an operation of trading lives. Not that Leo wasn’t beyond gender equality when it came to a deserved fate, but his own past and time at sea had more often shown him men with black hearts, perhaps his own included. His bewilderment lasted only a beat before he entered those quarters with his partner in crime, lifting his jaw ahead with a teasing comment to Eleanor. “You take the big one.” Jokes aside, he went into action with Eleanor right after Quintessa did, in time to halt a large sword swung for her back with crossed twin blades. The tread at the bottom of his boot stamped the Quartermaster’s stomach and with the strength of a lycan behind it, sent him careening into a desk, inkwell spilling over maps, sextant and astrolabe clattering across the floor, books flapping open askew on their bindings. But this wasn’t just another lowlife sailor pulled from the trenches to haul line and sail or sort cargo, and he wasn’t alone. Of course, the outcome of the scene is one to be expected, but there was an unforeseen occurrence when Leo’s body was heard thrown into one of the windows by a pissed off boatswain and glass shattered and showered his face and the floor. The entire ship would probably hear his colorful curse and the bestial growl that followed before more damage would be issued to the vessel, the wood frame of the wide door splintering at one side as bad pirate and… well, bad pirate came bursting onto the deck in a fist fight, both disarmed of their steel. The third one after Leo was well versed in flogging, and followed the two with lash in one hand and a dagger in the other. His attempt to help didn’t quite succeed enough, because although that whip did hit across the rogue’s back hard enough to tear through leather, it managed to piss him off as his fist came down onto the face of the other he’d wrestled on top of. A savage sound between a yell and a roar escaped through his face covering and a gruesome rorschach of blood spurt either side of his skull as Leo had quite literally crushed it, eyes and other things hemorrhaging within. To anyone witnessing that moment who knew him and his cursed state, they might worry an unscheduled transformation as gold ringed eyes turned toward the one holding a whip. Standing, it was almost a blur of motion as Leo unsheathed knife from boot and closed the distance to impale into jugular with a vicious twist to follow. He was shaking with rage as the corpse slid to the floor, panting hard for breath.

Meri :: The sounds of metal clanging against metal begins to steadily dim as the body count begins to rise. Soon it would be only those who invaded the ship, the slaves, and a captive Captain were the only living beings standing on a ship that was now stained red with blood. What a mess they made, but Meri felt no remorse and was not concerned with if there was another course of action that could have been taken. Perhaps one that involved less blood shed. Everyone would soon be able to move about the ship with ease, without having the concern that a pirate might jump out of a room and stab them. Now, not having to step over a body? That would be an entirely different matter. After a bit of inspection of the room that the slaves were housed in, Meri finally emerges on the main deck...carrying a saddle? While it is not entirely unheard of for beasts of burden to be transported oversea, not one horse has been seen on this ship. Nor a single mule. So the saddle certainly seems out of place on this ship, but the purpose was not a secret to quite a number of people on the ship, including the slaves. However, the interest in the saddle was not something that Meri was particularly interested in talking about. Their mission was not yet complete, for it was time to go home...and wouldn’t you know it? Those little rowboats that they brought along have drifted away, at least they did unless someone thought to actually tie one of those grappling hooks used to board the ship to one of those boats. It was of no major concern though, it’s not like they were stuck at sea. They were standing on top of a perfectly usable, albeit rather bloody ship, and had bodies enough to man it. While there were a few people standing on this ship who had some experience at sea, Leoxander was probably the most seasoned of them all. Surely the pirate wouldn’t let them drive the Golden Rose into the shore? Or sink her on some rocks? Or just go the wrong way entirely? Which way is Rynvale again? In the grand scheme of things, Meri will end up differing to Leo when it comes to all ship-steering matters. Surely he will not be guiding the ship into the main docks of Rynvale, not with the number of bodies they have left strewn all about the ship. Once everyone was able to move freely from dock to ship? Well the slaves were some of the first who wanted to set foot onto dry land...before their saviors changed their minds and tried to capture them again. Those who were brave enough to tag along for this adventure were given thanks, and again informed they would have rooms waiting for them at the Kraken. If they wanted it, at least, after what was probably a tiring mission. As for Meri? She would depart with Quintessa, taking both the Captain and the saddle to...some mystery location, effectively abandoning Eleanor and Leoxander with the ship to do whatever they saw fit with it.

Rilla ’s focus was on the pace of the fight that was rapidly ending, her alliance clearly stated in moving to protect the healer. All that she could smell was blood, much of it she had spilled, but some of it came from Penelope all of a sudden. With little ceremony she was behind the attacking man, pulling him off of her forcefully and tugging his head back by the hair. Her grip shifted, his neck snapped, and the body went limp to be discarded once more and as everybody wrapped up, Rilla headed for the deck. “I’m stealing a lifeboat if anyone wants a ride that doesn’t smell like a butcher shop.” Rilla called after her, wiping her hair from her face with the back of her hand to keep from getting bloody. She didn’t ask permission, rolling a lifeboat over the edge into the water, jumping down deftly into it to paddle to the dangling ropes to await any takers looking for an easy out.

Lanara is pleased that the slaver and all of his lackeys aboard the ship have met karma on this night, and that she had played her part in this confusing but grand adventure. She hadn’t known the specifics, but the witch often rolled with whatever was thrown her way, plus she trusted Meri with her life. There is a chill in the air, and being that she offhanded her hoodie, the witch crosses her arms and slightly shivers. It was time to go home, wash the blood from her hands, and curl up with her lycan. As the psion breezes past carrying a saddle, the witch furrows her brows in confusion, thinking that they had boarded the ship to free the slaves, and perhaps find a chest of trinkets and gold. Did this have something to do with the stables in Rynvale? Had she somehow missed a pretty pony while she was ramming a broom handle up a man’s arse? The witch is tired, otherwise she may have pulled Meri aside and asked for some sort of explanation, instead she offers, “Thank you for the excitement, it was a MUCH needed distraction!” Upon realizing that their boats had drifted away and that Leo was likely in charge of securing them to shore, Lana tries to make herself useful by offering to bandage up Penny’s wounds. “Come on, let’s go onto the upper deck where it’s more…” She glances at the heaping piles of bodies, blood, and gore, “Sanitary?” With a grin, she escorts her friend over to the stairs, but she pauses as she locks eyes with Rilla, “Nice to meet you, Avril.” No need to take offense, Lanara hardly gets anyone’s name right the first few times they meet! “Tessa.” A curt nod is offered to Quintessa, before she heads up the steps. At some point, between healing Penelope and arriving in Rynvale, Lana would over a wave to the female she knows as ‘Fox’ and to the pirate, Leo. She has a feeling she will be meeting with the couple in the near future, perhaps for some more secretive plotting.

Penelope released her hot grip as Rilla took the final blow and took care of the situation herself. The woman pulled back in the sweat that she had as one of the last men fell with the rest. Those two men in the bedroom where she left the handle hot, one would die, and one would end up with a broken door-knob to keep him captive until Penelope could leave him to rot with the rest of the ship. Hazel eyes look at Rilla and a tired smile is given, “Thank you, Rilla, seriously,” it was true. The healer was grateful. The woman then looks as Lanara addresses her friend. She nears the other witch and follows suit. As she addresses Rilla as ‘Avril’. “Lane,” a new even shorter nickname, “it’s Rilla. R. I. L… err… A?” The girl would not understand the spelling, but then again, she knew she had to butt-in somewhere. The girl hides away with the other for Lanara to tend to the healer’s wounds. How on earth was that a thing? “I think it might need stitches. It’s pretty deep, but if you get me a—“ she cannot complete her words as Lanara was already on it. “I’m glad you’re back, Lane.” The Ardelian concludes before looking at the rest of the lot. A bloody small smile to each one of them on the ship before she leans her head back against a barrel and closes her eyes until they were back on land to carry on as she did. This human was tired.

Quintessa led Captain Morgan out to meet the rest of the party, slapped in the same irons she kept some of the slaves in. Her head hung dejectedly at the chaos that had become of her crew as she surveyed the carnage. The captain was well aware that her luck could turn on her in an instant, but after getting away with it for so long she felt invincible. Now what was going to become of her? From the devious glint in her captors mismatched eyes it couldn’t be anything good. “You’ll pay for this…” she mumbled to Quintessa, causing a slight smile to grow on the changeling’s pale face before she glanced back at her. “Oh yeah? Not before you do- now come along.” The shadowblade tugged to quicken her pace, stopping to address the others before she and Meri headed off. “Rilla,” Quintessa was happy to see that the vampire had made it, giving her a friendly smile and nod of approval before her attention fell upon Lanara, and her slight smile grew. “It’s good to see you again, Lana. I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future.” With her gaze now fixating upon Penelope, Quintessa addresses her next. “Same goes for you. I haven’t forgotten our plans to sit down and have- what did we call it? A knowledge date.” Quintessa giggles and the captain in chains can’t help but groan under her breath, which causes the changeling to glance back with annoyance. “Oh, and if anyone wants to be there when I interrogate this woman, just let me know. I’m sure she won’t divulge any information willingly and I’ve love to see what kind of tactics you can offer in extracting it.” This was mainly directed at El and Leo, the two people she assumed would be most invested in that sort of thing. If nobody had anything else to add, Quintessa would look to Meri with one question on her mind. “Did you find the saddle?” With the magic object and owner captured, the dark fae could breathe a sigh of relief before heading off with her to their mystery location.

Eleanor had part of her cloak draped over one gloved hand, and she used the magic-imbued material to help wipe the sticky resin from her blades before they found themselves holstered within their hidden sheathes once more. Meanwhile, her boots carried her purposefully to Leo. Although she did not address him directly or even stand too close, she made her presence known nearby throughout the exciting play of their denouement — for this act at least. A few silent nods were given the battered crew that remained on their way back, no angels among them tonight, and yet something good had come of it all the same. Tessa's comments inspired the rogue to lift her chin, telltale signs of a grin forming under her mask, but she made no comment to acknowledge. However, the saddle drew in El's green-eyed stare with a glittering greed one would think to be tempered after the blood spilled in its quest already tonight. She mumbled something incoherent under her breath and slanted a gaze toward Leo and back again. She didn't know what it was, or how the saddle was connected, not truly, and yet, if it had sparked her kingfisher's interest, so, naturally, Eleanor had to find out. Not tonight, though — this sea-witch had plans that no longer included the rest of the crew save one, not if she could help it. She had seen the unruly gilded glint in the wolf's eyes; she more than felt the feral hunger building up inside of him. It was indeed any wonder he'd managed to be at the helm enough to guide the Golden Rose into a safe harbor without first satisfying the beast inside. Above her blood-splattered mask, El kept her stare trained on Leo and wondered if she'd have to retrieve those blades again before the sun came up.

Leoxander pulled the dagger that the deceased slaver had managed to blindly stab into his bicep free, dropping it on the floor roughly enough that it slid across the deck and bumped up against the railing. The shine bled slowly from his eyes in those seconds he locked his gaze with Eleanor, pretending to pay no means or interest to the saddle, though he had seen and heard all that she had. Answers would come eventually. Although tempted by Quintessa's invitation, only when Meri temporarily promoted him that he finally was forced to snap into gear, and he followed through. Those who didn’t know much of him, yet, might figure he’d done this kind’a leadership before. Fingers exposed from his thief’s glove went to mouth for a shrill whistle of attention, and he began pointing and beckoning at those who looked stronger, fitter, capable of assisting with the finale of their freedom. A brief, no nonsence speech to reassure them they were slaves no longer, but still had work to do, and the Captain fell into his old role, directing them to strip the slavers of anything they wanted: weapons, clothing, otherwise. A second order for weights and heavy cargo to be latched to bodies without a heartbeat left. There was a pause when he stepped back into Morgan’s previous space to retrieve his weapons and a compass from the floor, even though without Quin’s fog it was a clear sky. Life poured back into those former captives, several were volunteering when Achilles called for anchor strength and hands on the line to hoist sail; if there was enough wind to drift the other boats they’d find enough to carry them to shore, and probably some more than willing living bodies to take to oar. Blood leaked from the corner of his eye more visible than the rest, but he hardly seemed phased as the Golden Compass creaked and shifted and began to move toward the nearest shore, be it Cenril or Rynvale. Whichever direction Meri had suggested.